


Nobody makes sense, a series of nonsense about Garreg Mach's Crest Scholars

by rencey



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Or not, hanneman adopts three kids and teaches them trivial knowledge and go on adventures, lets gooooo, maybe there'll be timeskip? don't know yet, there might be a big plotline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rencey/pseuds/rencey
Summary: Hanneman von Essar is a famous crest scholar at Garreg Mach Monastery in need of sharing his knowledge to anyone, and the year of 1180 graced him with the chance to meet three troubled students who either happen to admire him and or are interested in his studies. Hoping to shape their lives for crestology, he begins learn that these students aren't just his pupils now, they've become his own kids.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Linhardt von Hevring & Lysithea von Ordelia & Annette Fantine Dominic & Hanneman von Essar, Manuela Casagranda/Hanneman von Essar
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Nobody makes sense, a series of nonsense about Garreg Mach's Crest Scholars

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoy this little series, i never have a set posting schedule and this also isn't the main thing i'm writing. so who knows how often i'll update this!
> 
> anyways linhardt and lysithea are mega stupid

The Dining Hall, a perfect place for comrades to loosen up and forget about life. Even if it is just for a brief moment. All those friends chattering away, the bustling of noise made the facility quite a lively one.

Lysithea was not a fan.

That being said it was a late afternoon on a sunday, dinner wouldn’t be prepared for another few hours and lunch has long since passed. Lysithea was still a little hungry. She had settled on taking a break from her studious life to see if any leftovers were out and about at the dining hall. Surely at this time of day they would still be giving out leftovers to the students.

Much to her dismay, the dining hall was gutted inside and out of any prepared meals and students. The silence was so still you could actually hear it. The tables were cleaned off, there weren’t even sets of plates at each spot yet.  _ No one was here, _ Lysithea thought.

No one except this delicious slice of cake at the end of one of the tables.

Lysithea fixated on the slice.  _ Yellow...must be vanilla flavor _ . She thought. The slice had this fluffy white frosting with little slices of strawberries along the edges. To call such a slice delightful was an understatement. This cake would be glorious.

The little mage ran her way to the plate of sweets on the table and checked her surroundings.  _ Phew _ . No one’s here.

Surely if this cake was owned by anyone, they would have said something by now.

For good measures she looked back and forth, up and down, under the tables and through the windows. Not just to hope she wouldn’t be stealing someone else’s treat, but so she wouldn't get caught in committing such cutsey affairs like eating sweets.

A smile grew on her face. Oh she could just smell the glorious sugariness already. She picked up the plate and a fork from the counter. Lysithea closed her eyes and opened wide.

Then in two long strides, a slim cleric took the plate from Lysithea's grasp.

“I’ll take that.”

Linhardt von Hevring. She should have known.

The little mage exclaimed. "What?! Hey, that was mine!"

Cruelly, the taller mage only rose the plate up high. Arms stretched up, like he was giving a gift to the goddess; a very tasty gift at that.

"It's a shame you're so small." He said dryly.

Lysithea took a tight grab at his arm and began to pull it down, unfortunately for her the sleepy cleric wouldn't budge.

"Give it back, Linhardt!"

He furrowed a brow. "You might have walked into the dining hall first but I've been eyeing on this slice since lunchtime."

"Were not!"

"Were too!" Linhardt yawns. "Now let go, this is annoying."

Perhaps a good time for a bit of background. On most occasions Lysithea is a polite young noble of Garrag Mach Monastery training her gifted skills in the arts of dark magic. Because of said gifted skills, she was enlisted to join the Crestology Program at Garrag Mach, which just so happens to meet on Sunday afternoons as well as the occasional weekday evenings. Linhardt was another student in the program.

Linhardt tried pushing Lysithea off. She was strong! Or at least maybe that's just his boney arms talking. Neither of them seemed to be making much progress in overpowering the other. How frustrating.

She cried out. "You're mean, Linhardt."

"No. I'm hungry." He whines.

Quickly Lysithea tried to dig her nails into his upper arm. Kicking and screaming, she was jumping up and down just to reach his elbows let alone the plate.

To put it bluntly; Linhardt was like Lysithea's apathetic older brother; who had no care in the world that Lysithea was going to miss out on such a delicious slice of cake.

And to Linhardt, Lysithea was just an annoying little sister.

He yawns again and closes his eyes. "Give up, Lysithea...I have the height advantage." Was he dozing off in the middle of a fight?

"Are you really that cocky to start drifting off?"

He hadn't even noticed. He has his own conditions to blame for that, not his ego, _ if he even had one. _

Then a swift boot impaled his stomach and the air was pushed out of his lungs. Startling himself awake, his eyes widened. Everything felt slow for a moment, and almost instinctively Linhardt lost his grip on the cake and embraced his torso.

Linhardt fell to his knees, Lysithea clearly the victor. Hysterical, Lysithea began to laugh so hard she sat down on the Dining Hall floor.

And then as if on cue, a cold splat accompanied with cracking glass came from behind the two mages.

Oh no.

Alright, funny business is over. Lysithea stares blankly at the pathetic splatter of a once delicious treat sprawled across the Dining Hall’s floor. Linhardt, still holding his abdomen, stares at the cake too. Complete and utter shock displayed on both the mages.

For a minute there’s only silence. And for a minute, the bickering subsided.

Linhardt breaks the silence for a moment. “Guess neither of us get that cake.”

“Guess so…” the smaller one frowns. “If only you weren’t such a callous jerk!”

“You should've noticed I was heading for the cake this whole time!”

“Really?!” She shouts. “I can’t believe you, Linhardt!”

“I can’t believe you!”

The midday rings of the Cathedral’s bells could be heard from across all of the monastery. In the midst of their bickering, Linhardt quips a smirk.

“Let’s settle this after we meet in Hanneman’s room, okay?”

Lysithea knitted her brows. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I am, Goddess, maybe he can even end our quarrel.” He laughs into his hands.

She smirks. “Yeah? Well at least I won’t be late.”

“What does that mean?”

And like that Lysithea runs off. Leaving Linhardt to clean the remains of the cake on the floor. He groans, knowing he lost this battle  _ and _ a fine treat.


End file.
